“When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets of the covenant law in his hands, he was not aware that his face was radiant because he had spoken with the Lord”

Exodus 34:29

For forty days and forty nights on that mountain, Moses did not eat or drink, proving that man does not live on bread alone. 

Do you believe that? 

I know I do, Or at least, I did. Jesus told us that man lives on every word that comes from the mount of God (Matthew 4:4). We get that through Scripture. We get that through mass. And we get that through prayer. And for weeks, I went without any of those. 

There’s a great quote in Seabiscuit that says “It’s better to break a man’s leg than to break his heart.” What happens when life does both?

I found myself wondering that after I tore my achilles in early January. I had finally felt like I had strong momentum going after several months of unending transitions. The podcast was going well, opportunities were opening up, and I had big plans to get back to writing the book. Then a late night basketball game changed it all. 

What happened in an instant would change my life for the next six months. My prayer life dropped to zero, my intake of Scripture did the same, and mass broke down to simply receiving Communion at home with our local priest. 

I know I’m not the first person to have gone through this. I mean this isn’t even the first time I’ve gone through it, far from it. And it won’t be the last. But the beauty of our faith is that it illuminates the good in the past, the gifts of the present moment, and the possibilities of the future.

Moses went through it all. He had to lead a miserable group of people, live in the desert, and constantly have to plead with God on behalf of his ungrateful followers. He was exhausted and constantly being pushed to his limits by our God. Why should it be any different for us? 

When I listened to Fr Mike Schmitz’ Bible in a Year Podcast on Ash Wednesday (I’ve picked it up as part of my Lenten practice), I was struck by the verse with which we began. Moses face was radiant with light. Why was this so? 

Because he had spent time talking with our Lord. 

Maybe you’re like me. Maybe you can remember a time when your face, too, was radiant with the light of our Lord. You had the deep prayer life and connection to the Sacraments that inevitably leads to a certain heavenly glow. 

Or maybe you haven’t experienced that before. This could all be new to you, but you’re hopeful that you could someday shine with the best of them. 

 Lent is the time to recommit to our daily conversations with the Lord. It’s time that we enter into our prayer life and when possible, go to see Him face to face in adoration and in mass. When we recommit to prayer and couple it with fasting, we will undoubtedly be the lights of the world that Jesus commanded us to be. Much like the culture that Moses found when he returned back down the mountain, ours is dark and in desperate need of our light. 

You may be in the desert. You may be stranded on the mountain. You may even be hungry, tired, and thirsty. But embrace this moment. Speak with the Lord. And let Him fill your face and your life with His radiant light.